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Then I dive into my tent before I do something stupid like cry.

Suzanne Collins

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Suzanne Collins
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: August 10
Executive Producer
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Hartford
Connecticut
Suzanne Marie Collins
Suzanne Collins
Tent
Tents
Dive
Cry
Stupid
Something
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Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.
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What do you think? I whisper to Peeta. About the fire? I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine, he says through gritted teeth.
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He never lets go of Annie's hand. Not when they walk, not when they eat. I doubt he ever plans to.
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I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.
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Once I'm on my feet I realize escape might not be so easy.
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We had to save you because you're the mockingjay, Katniss, says Plutarch. While you live, the revolution lives.
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Hey, Effie, watch this! says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean whit his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, We miss you, Effie!
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Remembering from last year how Haymitch's gifts are often timed to send a message, I make a note to myself. Be friends with Finnick. You'll get food.
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At the moment, the choice would be simple. I can survive just fine without either of them.
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Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water and hands it to me. “For you.” I hold it out on my palm and examine its iridescent surface in the sunlight. Yes, I will keep it. For the few remaining hours of my life I will keep it close. This last gift from Peeta. The only one I can really accept. Perhaps it will give me strength in the final moments.
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My mouth has gone dry as sawdust. I desperately find Cinna in the crowd and lock eyes with him. I imagine the words coming from his lips. 'What's impressed you most since you arrived here?' I rack my brain for something that made me happy here. Be honest, I think. Be honest.
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because I have learned the hard way how deadly these beauties can be.
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They don't own me. If I'm gonna die, I wanna still be me.
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I'm not their slave, the man mutters. I am, I say. That's why I killed Cato ... and he killed Thresh ... and he killed Clove ... and she tried to kill me. It just goes around and around, and who wins? Not us. Not the districts. Always the Capitol. But I'm tired of being a piece in their Games.
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The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. That I can give up this game. That the question of whether I can succeed in this venture has been answered, even if that answer is a resounding no. That if desperate times call for desperate measures, I am free to act as desperately as I want.
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I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.
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I'm going to be the Mockingjay.
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Thank you for you consideration
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The only thing worse than fighting a giant scorpion was fighting a giant scorpion who was trying to protect her young.
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Oh, well. At least my blood is flowing.
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